Chapter 32
thirty-two
. . .
Connections
Five years ago
lynda carlisle
Summertime, 1:21pm
She answers the phone as she slips into her car, stifling hot with the sun radiating through in the short time she had been at Holly’s gravesight. With a sigh, she goes through the general pleasantries, though she and Desiree both know it’s merely superficial politeness.
At Desiree’s hesitation to reveal the real reason for her call, Lynda prompts her. “Are you and Taven seeing one another again?”
“Yes,” is all Desiree says.
“For how long?” The last she knew, Desiree had stopped talking to Taven not too long after his arrest. Now here they were, a few years later, reconnecting.
Lynda hears Desiree’s heavy sigh. “It’s new. It was new, I mean. It had only been a couple months, but I’ve ended things, because I just can’t.” Her words come out in a strained rush, the girl’s voice trembling. “It’s a lot to explain, it started after the funeral. My um…my mom died, did you know that?”
Lynda fights back the emotion she feels at hearing those words come from Desiree’s mouth. Yes, of course she knew. It’s why she’s visited Holly’s grave three times already, since attending the funeral was impossible. She doesn’t share that with Desiree, though. “I did hear that. I’m so sorry, Desiree.”
“Thank you. She gave it a good fight.” Lynda hears pride in the young woman’s tone.
“I imagine she did.”
She waits for Desiree to explain the reason for her call. “Listen, there’s something else I need to talk to you about. Something about Taven.”
“Well, dear. I figured as much. Since I would not exactly say you are one to call me often, this can only mean one thing.” At Desiree’s continued silence, Lynda reminds herself to have patience. Such a timid girl, that one. Clearly calling with bad news, but unsure how to present it. Lynda decides to throw her a bone. “Let me guess, my son is in jail again.”
“Not exactly.”
“But he is in trouble, I presume?” Lynda looks at her nails, the perfect manicure she receives promptly every two weeks. The pale pink. Timeless and classic. She wipes a speck of pollen off of her ring finger.
“Not exactly,” Desiree repeats. “But…he does need help, I think.” Lynda hears some rustling of papers on the other end of the line.
“For God’s sake, Desiree. Spit it out, what do you think it’s like for a mother to sit and hear that her son needs help, without any quick relief of an indication of how, exactly? Is he or is he not in some kind of legal trouble?”
Lynda’s mind rolls back to five years prior, the last time Desiree Hatson had most unexpectedly called her. Mrs. Carlisle, she had said. I’m sitting at the police station. Taven is being arrested for something. Assault and battery, I think.
Defending his Desiree. And going too far. How Lynda had reeled at the news. A dumb boy, getting carried away in his aid, showing off for a girl. And not just any girl, but Holly and Frank’s daughter, of all people. How had they still been in contact? She figured their youthful flame would have long fizzled out by then. Imagine her surprise to learn that no, it very much had not. In fact, they had been attending the same college together. One Taven would soon say he was dropping out of.
Well, with a misdemeanor under his belt, she could hardly fight him on it, could she? A mark against him that would not fare well for employment. All she could do was hope to God her son had a decent plan to dig himself out of this hole. The relief she found in the fact that he did. Such a boy, still, the way he presented to her and her husband his dream! A garage. Vintage cars. Finding them, refurbishing them, selling them to the highest bidders. Certainly not her first choice, wasn’t that the very world of blue-collar grime that she had worked so hard to leave behind?
But her son knew nothing of that.
With reluctance, she realized it would be a good fit for him. Always tinkering, starting from when he was a small boy. She had imagined his skills would move him toward engineering, but there was no denying that school was not his strong suit.
A good trade could still be respectable. Even her husband could see that. And their son was a late bloomer, what more could they do? So they supported his dream, with hopes that his arrest and charges would be a good lesson for him. Stay out of trouble, choose your circle wisely, and focus on yourself. Whatever it takes.
She thinks about all of this as she listens to what Desiree is telling her now.
That she and her son recently got back together, but it didn’t last long, because Desiree couldn’t do it anymore. But she’s worried about him and doesn’t know what to do.
Desiree believes her son has a drinking problem .
Bottles buried in the trash bin. On his breath early in the morning. Reckless driving, nearly crashing more than once. A problem much worse than Desiree had realized, and she doesn’t know how to help him. She can’t help him. She hopes Lynda can. Please assure her she’ll help Taven.
All Lynda could think was how hard she had fought to get away from the addictions surrounding her in childhood. Only to brew an addict of her very own.